Just One Dance
by Mongie
Summary: COMPLETE: This being the account of how one ballet rat, on a bet, suceeded in securing a dance with the Phantom of the Opera.
1. The Bet

**Just One Dance**

**This being the account of how one ballet rat succeeded, on a bet, in securing a dance with the Phantom of the Opera**

_I must confess that whenever I read the title of this work I have to smile. It makes it seem like I have done something daring, like I actually meant to dance with the famed Phantom of the Opera. But it was nothing of the sort, and, in truth, had I known who I was dancing with I should have fainted dead away._

_But the incident occurred before the frightful abduction of Christine Daaé, and I, ignorant ballet rat that I was, considered the Phantom to be a ghost in truth, not a man wandering around during the annual Masquerade. Looking back now—after the passage of time and the existence of a great many miles between me and Paris have given me a calmer perspective—I can see the whole night was one ironic mishap after another. Indeed, I wonder that I survived it._

_But I digress. You are only reading this account, I would guess, in order to hear more about the infamous Opera Ghost, not read the meanderings of a lowly ballet rat. So, without further ado, the fantastic tale of how I, one Aurelie Therese Collard, pursued the Phantom of the Opera and got him to dance with me._

* * *

Aurelie scanned the crowd with undisguised excitement. Beside her, her friend Celeste grumbled, "I can't believe you made me come with you to this."

Aurelie chided her without looking, "Oh, do be quiet Celeste. You'd have fun if you just let yourself." She herself was set to have the best time of her life.

The annual masquerade at the Paris Opera House was the pinnacle of the holiday celebrations held there each year. Everyone came, and the dancing lasted until the early hours of the morning. Aurelie had been waiting for Madame Giry, the ballet mistress, to consider her old enough to go for years, and finally the year had come.

She turned to Celeste, who was glowering at the dance floor. "Can't you feel any excitement? Look at all of it: the dancing, the music, the impressionable young men looking for dancing partners!"

Celeste wasn't persuaded. "Well they probably won't look at us to remedy that lack, Aurelie. All of the best partners are hovering around the likes of _her_." She nodded towards where Carlotta, displaying a generous amount of cleavage, was flirting with at least four different men.

Aurelie sighed. Her friend was right. Not only was Carlotta occupied, she could see Meg Giry over to her left, engaged in talking to the Baron de Castelot-Barbezac. Sorelli was in the opposite directing talking to the Comte de Chagny, who everyone knew was crazy about her. And she had no doubt that Christine Daaé was flitting about somewhere with her Vicomte in close pursuit. But Aurelie refused to give up; there had to be someone worthwhile left to dance with.

She gave Celeste a determined look. "I'm not leaving without dancing at least once. I'll find someone suitable before the night is over; you'll see." A flash of scarlet caught her eye, and she focused in on it, her mouth dropping open.

It was a man, dressed entirely in an eye-blinding shade of scarlet. On his head was the most incredible death-mask, topped with an enormous plumed hat, also scarlet. A short cloak hung from his shoulders, and when he turned around, Aurelie saw a caption was embroidered on it in gold. It read: "Don't Touch Me! I Am Red Death Stalking Abroad!"

"Perfect," Aurelie breathed. She looked at Celeste, who was also staring at the scarlet man. Aurelie gave her a little nudge. Celeste turned to look at her. "Him," Aurelie said, pointing, "I'll get a dance with him!"

Celeste looked horrified. "With him? Aurelie, look at him! He's wearing a _gigantic plumed hat_ for goodness sakes!"

Aurelie had turned her eyes back to the scarlet man. "I am looking at him," she said dryly, "and I don't see any problems. Look, he's not with anyone else." That was blatantly clear as there was a ring of empty space surrounding him, as if people were scared to get near him.

Celeste snorted in a most undignified fashion. "There's probably a reason for that." Aurelie just looked at her. Celeste continued, "You'll never get him to so much as look at you."

Stung, Aurelie retorted, "I bet you my new sash I will."

"Done." Celeste held out her hand. "Your new sash against my new gloves that you can't get him to dance with you before tonight is over."

Aurelie grabbed Celeste's hand and shook it. "Deal." She grinned, "I was just admiring those gloves."

Celeste rolled her eyes. "Well you can keep admiring them from a distance, seeing as how I'm going to win. This is the easiest bet I've ever made."

Aurelie just smiled, and started making plans.

**A/N—I hope this was at least mildly amusing! I've had this plot bunny bouncing around in my head for the longest time. Oh and I forgot, get any ideas that I may own the Phantom of the Opera in any way, shape or form out of your head, because I don't! The next chapter should be up shortly.**


	2. The Pursuit

**Don't own Phantom of the Opera, and I never will.**

_Ah, the follies of youth. How carefully I made my plans. How eagerly I laid in wait for my opportunity. How brainless I was. I don't know how I ever thought those tricks would work on any but the most stupid of men._

_I'm surprised he didn't strangle me on the spot. Although if he had, people might have suspected who he was, or at least tried to detain him until the police got there. So I guess I'm surprised he didn't drag me deep under the Opera House and strangle me there, leaving my body to rot undiscovered until the end of time._

* * *

Aurelie kept her eye on the scarlet man as she slipped the crowd. Not that that was hard, what with his eye-catching outfit and the ring of clear space surrounding him.

She'd try to make him come to her, Aurelie thought. It would be so much simpler if he did. She took note of his direction—he was purposefully walking through the crowd as if he had some destination in mind—and quickly circled around to get in front of him. When he was close enough she smiled prettily and tried to catch his eye.

He didn't even look her way as he swept past.

Aurelie's smile slipped, and she glared at his departing back. But, determined to win the bet, she circled around and tried again. And again. And again. Every time he walked right by without so much as a glance in her direction, leaving her to glare at the embroidered "Don't Touch Me!" on his back as if it was personally talking to her.

Frustrated, she leaned back against a column to plan her next move. Ahead of her, the scarlet man moved yet again through the room. Aurelie wondered what—or who—he was looking for. He certainly wasn't there to have fun. She would have to try a more direct approach.

Once more she hurried to get in front of him. By dint of some skillful maneuvering through the crowd, she managed to set herself on a collision course for him, all the while pretending to be looking in the other direction.

Fate seemed to be with her, for the crowd opened up at precisely the right moment and she crashed into him. She grabbed his arm to steady herself. "Oh! I'm sorry, Monsieur. I—" She trailed off as she looked up at his masked face.

Yellow eyes glared down at her like twin lamps, and his thin lips were twisted into the beginnings of a snarl. Combined with the horrific features of the death's head mask, it was a sight guaranteed to put off anyone interested in conversation. Or dancing for that matter.

Aurelie promptly forgot all the coy remarks she'd made up while planning her pursuit. She forgot all about the bet too. In fact, she forgot to think at all. She took a step back, but his hand shot out and grasped her wrist.

She stared at it in a kind of horror. His touch was cold, and his hand looked like a true skeleton's hand. Aurelie began to wonder if maybe he wasn't a man at all, but truly the Red Death.

Then he spoke. "Why have you been following me, Mademoiselle?"

**Thank you everyone who reviewed! You inspired me to get this second chapter up so quickly.**


	3. The Dance

**I don't own the Phantom of the Opera.**

_Many times since that night I have been asked to describe him. What did he look like? What did he sound like? But there are many people who could answer those questions. Scores of people will tell you they've caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of their eyes, or have heard his voice come out of thin air._

_The question to ask me, I assure you, is what did he smell like? Christine Daaé could tell you, but she fled soon after the incident. And I know of no one else who has gotten close to him and lived to tell about it. The answer is: he smelled like death._

_No, not like decaying flesh, as one might assume death smells like. It is not his death he smelled of, but yours. He smelled of cold dampness that brings a tomb to mind, and with it the assumption that he is going to put you in one._

_But that makes little sense, does it? I suppose I have read too many silly romance novels for his choice of costume not to affect me in some way. After all, who's ever heard of someone smelling like death?

* * *

_

"Why have you been following me, Mademoiselle?"

His voice jerked Aurelie out of her daze. Whatever his hand looked like, it wasn't possible to imagine a less skeleton-like voice.

Cured of her fears that he really was Red Death incarnate, Aurelie could breathe again. She pasted a smile on her face and replied, "I declare, Monsieur, I don't know what you're talking about. I was on my way to greet someone I know."

His fingers tightened around her wrist. Leaning closer, he hissed, "You lie."

Aurelie hesitated, but when his stare didn't waver she sighed and allowed her too-bright smile to slide off her face. "I was trying to get you to notice me, so you'd ask me to dance," she said reluctantly.

He laughed disbelievingly, "You want to…_dance_ with me?"

Aurelie didn't care for the scorn and contempt in his voice. She raised her chin. "Yes, I wanted to dance with you."

"Don't you know who I am?" For some reason, Aurelie got the impression that he expected her to.

She studied his masked face in more detail. "I don't…think so." She eyed his hat doubtfully. "Erm, Red Death?"

He dropped her wrist with a mutter that sounded like "foolish child" and turned around.

Aurelie cried, "Wait!" Several people turned to look at her, but the scarlet man didn't stop. She sped off after him.

Gaining a spot by his side, she said again, "Wait."

He stopped abruptly. "What do you want?"

Aurelie thought he sounded very mad. She met his eyes squarely though; there was nothing he could do to her in the crowd. "Well, I got you to notice me, so are you going to ask me to dance?"

"No," he said shortly, and started walking again.

"Fine," she said, grabbing his sleeve, "I'll do it myself." He spun around, looking far from amused, menacing even—if that was possible for someone in a plumed hat. She smiled pertly at him. "Will you dance with me?" she asked.

He stared at her, eyes narrowing behind his mask. Aurelie didn't so much as twitch, just gave him a look that she hoped said: _I won't give up._

In response he growled, "You have no idea who you are dealing with, Mademoiselle."

"We've already established that, Monsieur," she reminded him. "Now, your answer?"

Another pause as he stared at her some more. Then slowly, as if he didn't believe what he was doing, he offered her his arm. "One dance," he said. "That's it. Then you leave me alone."

Aurelie beamed at him. He glared back. "One dance won't kill you," she informed him as she laid her hand on his arm.

"But it might prove fatal for you," he said, leading her to the dance floor.

"Threats, Monsieur?" she said lightly. "Most ungentlemanly of you."

They reached the dance floor. She turned to face him, and they began to dance. His movements were surprisingly hesitant, though his glare didn't waver.

"Maybe they're not just threats," he said finally. "How do you know I'm a gentleman?"

Aurelie smiled up at him as they whirled about the floor. "I don't. So far, the only identity we've established for you is Red Death."

"That is enough to keep most people away."

"Ah, but you've failed to take into account my costume."

He looked down at her costume. "Someone from Greek legends, I see. Let me guess, Aphrodite, who fears no one because she can make them fall in love with her?"

Aurelie laughed delightedly. "You show your opinion of me, Monsieur! No, I don't plan to seduce Red Death anytime soon. Besides, Carlotta snatched that costume early. Try again."

Her sally didn't lift his glare. If anything, it became fiercer. "I don't play games, Mademoiselle."

"I'd never have guessed," she said dryly. "Come on, one more guess."

He was starting to look more irritated than angry now. A good thing, Aurelie supposed. His tone was equally dry as he replied, "Very well. Then it must be Athena, because you're certainly not afraid of battles."

"Such flattery! But wrong again, Monsieur," she taunted him. "Shall I just tell you?"

"I'm not sure I could prevent you from doing so."

"Very perceptive of you," she said. Then in a mock-whisper, she announced, "I'm Persephone."

"Persephone?" he said. "I fail to see how that should make you less afraid of Red Death, unless you're equating me with Hades."

She sniffed, "Anything but. I'm not marrying you, Monsieur. But as Queen of the Underworld I'd hardly have to fear Death would I?"

Aurelie chalked his silence up as a victory on her part.

They danced a little more in silence. Then Aurelie caught sight of Celeste off to the side, standing by the wall. Aurelie managed to catch her friend's eye. Celeste was staring at them in astonishment, her eyes almost popping out of her head. Aurelie grinned.

"What is so amusing, Mademoiselle?" Her dance partner's voice brought Aurelie's glance back up to his.

"I just caught sight of my friend."

He turned them around and spotted Celeste. "She seems very surprised."

"Well she didn't think I'd get you to dance with me."

He scowled. "She was part of your mad scheme?" He was back to glaring. Did everything make him angry, Aurelie wondered. She couldn't resist goading him a little more.

"She was part of the cause of it, since you ask," she said innocently.

He eyed her suspiciously. "In what way?"

"We had a bet that I couldn't get a dance partner."

"I'm part of a _bet_?" He sounded astonished and angry.

Just then the music came to an end. Aurelie stepped back and gave him a brief curtsy. "Yes, a bet. I thank you, Monsieur for helping me win it." She grinned at him. "Now you may go back to finding whatever you were searching for."

As Aurelie had hoped, that comment had distracted him from his anger towards her. As she turned and walked away from him, she could see him intently scanning the crowd. She walked back to Celeste. "I believe those gloves are mine now," she informed her friend.

* * *

_Astonishing isn't it? That I could bait the Phantom so, and survive._

_And how do I know it was the Phantom? Because the next night I found a note on my pillow. It read:_

_Mademoiselle,_

_Truly you didn't know who you were dealing with, which is why I do not show my displeasure. But, as I did help you win your bet, I believe half of the prize is mine. Be more careful of the bets you make in the future._

_Your obedient servant,_

_O.G._

_One of Celeste's gloves was missing._

_Fin_

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed! You are all too kind. I hope you enjoyed this story!**


End file.
